Day 49 - June 12 - Oregon

"North of Toronto, south of Ontario, west of Canada, and east of Vancouver"

American Militarism

I've been sitting on this for a while now, never finding the right time, way, or reason to write about it, but today, while biking on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Highway, and after passing through VFW posts, and leaving a campground giving military discounts, and seeing parking spaces reserved for veterans wounded in combat, I think it's time to go back to basics, preach to the choir, and explain just how pervasive the military is in the daily lives of Americans.

I should lay out my biases at the door. I think that the U.S. military is a disgraceful stain on the world. It may have not always been that way, and it may not always be that way, but in the present, it is my belief that the U.S. military is a force of evil in the world. That's not to say that specific people within the military are evil people, and it's not to say that I enjoy many things that the military is providing for me (probably the most important ones are the continued subjugation of other nations to countries whose passports I possess, and the protection of Israel, a country that houses most of my family).

Let's start with the discounts. Nearly every RV park, gas station, and hotel offers some kind of military discount. It doesn't add up to much. If I was active military, I would have probably saved a total of about $100 over the entire trip. Yet it's unquestionably there, not just written on signs in shops, but verbally asked by front offices in RV parks and hotels. The military discount is something that needs to be repeated over and over, and is on the tip of the tongue of every cashier. It's part of the travelling experience - making sure that everyone knows that military means saving money, which the cynical-minded would tell you is what being American is all about.

Then there's what I'll call the roadside presence. Highways are dedicated to veterans, wounded soldiers, and the litter collection is sometimes funded by a local military base, or a veteran's association. At rest areas and city halls, the MIA-POW flag waves in solidarity, with, at the end of the day, combattants. All of these serve to bolster up the honour of service; to make sure that everyone knows that being in the military means respect, regardless of what you do in it.

There's also the ads. I'll admit that this isn't everywhere, and that I saw many more ads in the South than I did since I left Texas, but they're still worth mentioning. These billboards promise careers, enlistment bonuses, comraderie, and generally making something out of onesself. I don't watch TV, but I'm sure they have ads there as well. Now everyone knows that the military is always an option - something you, yes, you, can do.

Writing this reminds me a lot of the brilliant movie "Starship Troopers," which really exemplifies what a truly military-based society looks like. The U.S. is not there, but at the rate they criticize politicians for not being veterans, and the way they worship military-personel and fetishize the service, I can see the similarities.

I guess there's always the retort that other countries to do this too. Israel comes to mind as a frontrunner. Yet I also even remember seeing ads for the Canadian military on TV as a kid. Maybe it's also a question of geography - that rural America is more militaristic than urban America (that's definitely true). All I can say is that from my experience with other countries, and my view of this one, the U.S. is extremely militaristic to sometimes scary degrees.

The Fear that Tomorrow Brings

Today I overheard two ladies, sitting behind me at a restaurant, mention that they are from Portland. It's the first ones! They told me some bad news. They said that the freeway is under construction. There are other routes, but they are long and windy, and very hilly. The freeway is the best way to go.

But I'm scared. I'm not sure what of. The worst that might happen is that I blockade a lineup of cars in a single-lane area. It happened to me today already, and I got flipped off. But tomorrow, the women said, there will be miles-long stretches of road that are under heavy construction. Tomorrow I might be blocking the highway for 20 minutes.

In some sense, I wish I could warn the public. For the first time in my life, I might call the Oregon Department of Transportation and ask about the highway conditions.

The Image Gallery

Today, for quite some time, I was north of Toronto, Ontario, south of Ontario, Oregon, west of Canada, Idaho, and east of Vancouver, Washington. If that confuses you, let me help with a picture of Canada, Idaho:

I've actually noticed that I'm getting pretty far north (even further north than Toronto, as I said above) since the days are getting really long, and the sun sets at 9:30. This is also because I'm very far west in the timezone. In fact, I am in the only county in Oregon that uses mountain time, and not Pacific time.
On a totally unrelated note, if I ever launch a gay nightclub, this is what I'm calling it:

What's a cowboy church anyways?
I figured that it's been a while since I posted some pictures of empty fields, so I thought a lot about what to say, and it came to me! On google satelite images of the area, it looks mountainous and barren. In fact, it was like that in New Mexico too. From the sky, this region looks very brown and dull. However, due to it being spring, and the different perspective, here's what some of these areas look like from ground level. Very different!

I thought this winding road looked scenic, so I took a crappy picture:

I've been told that the weather in Oregon changes fast. Today was sunny all day long. So much so that I considered going past Ontario, and camping out on the side of the road if I got tired. Instead, like a wimp, I took a motel. I took a shower, worked a bit, and when I looked outside, things had changed a bit...

I hope not to get caught in a random thunderstorm in the next few days...

The Map

Today I biked for 80km over the course of about four hours, with a long break in the middle to write postcards and drink a strawberry milkshake.

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